
The relationship between a snooker player and their cue is perhaps the most intimate and crucial bond in professional sport. For Ronnie O’Sullivan, the pursuit of the perfect cue has often been as volatile as his on-table temperament. Now, the master craftsman behind O’Sullivan’s tools, John Parris, has offered a candid look into the star’s emotional pressures and a shocking “tantrum” that led to the destruction of one of his precious, custom-made sticks.
Parris, a South London-based cue specialist, is widely regarded as one of the best in the business. His reputation is so sterling that his handcrafted cues—which can fetch around £3,000—come with an astonishing eight-year waiting list. O’Sullivan is, of course, his most high-profile and demanding client.
Parris’s revelations center around a severe incident that occurred in January at the German Masters, shortly before O’Sullivan made the decision to withdraw from a string of nine tournaments. Facing an internal struggle with his game and his equipment, O’Sullivan’s frustration boiled over.
The Outburst: Parris described the cue-snapping incident simply as “a tantrum, a rush of blood.” Under the intense, immediate disappointment of a poor performance or a recurring issue with the cue, O’Sullivan snapped the snooker stick in half.
The Craftman’s Grief: For Parris, the destruction of hours of meticulous work was painful. “It was a bit heartbreaking when Ronnie broke that last one,” he admitted. He went on to explain why this was not a quick fix: “Sometimes if it’s a clean break you can put it back together again. But this was a real job! It was never going to work. So you just have to say ‘oh well, here we go again’.”
Understanding the Pressure: Crucially, Parris did not condemn his top client. Instead, he contextualized the outburst by acknowledging the immense psychological strain O’Sullivan operates under. “It takes a lot for Ronnie to do that. He has got a lot of pressure on him. Everybody wants a piece of him.” This pressure—to perform, to win, and to maintain his legacy—often manifests in his highly emotional connection to the game and his tools.
The sensitivity O’Sullivan has toward his cue has been a recurring theme, and it gained renewed attention during his 2025 World Snooker Championship semi-final against Zhao Xintong.
O’Sullivan, unhappy with his snooker stick, opted for a dramatic, mid-match change, switching out his main cue for a new one during the semi-final. The move was heavily scrutinized because it coincided with a catastrophic session of play. On Friday morning, following the cue change, O’Sullivan suffered a crushing whitewash session, with Zhao Xintong taking all eight frames and charging into a dominant 12-4 lead.
The incident at the Crucible provided a public demonstration of the severe impact that equipment frustration—and the “rush of blood” it can inspire—has on O’Sullivan’s game. Whether the cue change was a desperate attempt to find rhythm or a necessary technical adjustment, it ultimately failed, costing him crucial momentum against the surging Chinese star.
The ongoing, and sometimes destructive, collaboration between John Parris and Ronnie O’Sullivan speaks to the unique demands of elite snooker. The relationship is less about commerce and more about maintaining a high-performance instrument for a generational talent. While O’Sullivan’s tantrums can be destructive, Parris continues to supply him with the finest cues, understanding that the pursuit of perfection requires managing a highly sensitive, volatile genius.
The revelations about the German Masters incident serve as a powerful reminder that even the greatest athletes are susceptible to the psychological grind. For O’Sullivan, the cue is not just a stick of wood; it’s the extension of his mind, and any perceived failure of the instrument can translate into overwhelming personal frustration. Parris’s job, it seems, is not just to be a master cue maker, but also an understanding observer of the human drama unfolding at the highest level of the sport.